


Innocent

by immistermercury



Series: peccant!verse [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 9 months on from peccant, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, depictions of chronic illness, freddie dances for the royal ballet, he's also a cellist, it's the sequel to peccant!, jim is an emergency consultant, lots of family time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immistermercury/pseuds/immistermercury
Summary: “I found biscuits.” Lottie came up behind him and grinned, handing a biscuit to each of the children. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I got some for the kids.”“Of course not.” Freddie chuckled, kissing her temple as she sat next to him. “How’s your foot?”“Aching like a bastard.” She muttered, and he arched an eyebrow playfully - he didn’t mind bad language, but not around his little ones. “I might have to steal your crutches.”“And strand me here?” Freddie snorted. “Sure, I’ll find two long sticks on Southbank and stumble home that way. Jim would kick your ass.”
Relationships: Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Series: peccant!verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597381
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nisargasinha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisargasinha/gifts).



> We're doing classic Lily and we're starting with a prologue that comes roughly midway through this fic - a taster of things to come.
> 
> Also, for anyone interested in the title choice, a peccant is a synonym for a sinner, so of course, we had to go for an antonym now that he's happier and doesn't live in a world where everything he does is wrong!

Mellifluous - swirling, gorgeous, golden, fluid like water, fluid like treacle, thick and sweet molasses guilding the world with saccharine sweetness on the way down, the forbidden treat of the child with their fingers in honey. Otherwordly, swirling, uncontrollable, movement heavy on the eyelids, eyelashes meeting warm skin, healthy skin, glowing with the rude health of youth; dark eyes struggling to stay open against the onslaught of sensation. One gentle finger touches another, grounding, though the mind is free to explode into a thousand fragments, a rapture, a blinding supernova that leaves behind the body, leaves behind the feeling of heaviness; the mind is ethereal, golden, regal and beautiful, living in a world where the blues are pinks, the pinks are greens, the greens are burned umber, everything and nothing making sense, known, understood-

Freddie opened his eyes when little fingers touched the base of his jawline; he heaved them open with effort, with the most beautiful of smiles on his face, momentarily sad to have lost the feeling of space in his mind, emptiness so welcome, devoid of worries or cares, steps or choreography, recipes or reminders. “Daddy tired?” Holly asked, her voice so wound in the care she felt for her father. 

“No, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and looked out over the empty auditorium of the Royal Festival Hall, blacks melting into reds, and reds into golds; he couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped his lips. Jim had been escaping from the boat every night, sometimes for hours at a time, and Freddie had crawled himself into that most private part of his life, sat silently at the back of the auditorium, listening, appreciating, loving. “I like the music.”

“It’s pretty.” She agreed, resting her head against Freddie’s shoulders. It was late, far beyond her bedtime, but she had been desperate to hear her father’s music. “Pop is clever.”

“Very clever.” Freddie replied, his voice a hushed whisper. He’d been incessantly begging Jim to let him hear his cello practice, though his lover was so shy about ever picking up his instrument when his family were in earshot, and so they’d decided the only reasonable thing to do would be to listen in on one of his practices, when he was amongst friends, when he didn’t feel so singled out.

“I want to play.” Xavier murmured, watching his Pop so intently. 

“One day, baby. When you’re a little bigger.” Freddie smiled, speaking in the same low and judicious tone that he always adopted when one of the children was liable to get upset.

“Daddy play.” Holly sent him that smile, the same sweet one he received when she wanted another biscuit or she’d spilled juice on the freshly cleaned carpets, the serpent’s grin that she knew always got her her own way. 

“I can’t, darling.” Freddie chuckled. “You have to be very special to play here. You have to be as special as Pop is.”

“You’re special!” She said, sounding outraged, and Freddie gestured at her quickly to stay quiet. “Daddy do it.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not that easy.” He explained, making his voice a little firmer. “You know how Daddy had to go to the Royal Ballet so they could see I could dance? You have to do the same here, but with music.”

Her face broke into one of understanding and she nodded, leaning against him to listen to the music as they started to play again. “I found biscuits.” Lottie came up behind him and grinned, handing a biscuit to each of the children. “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I got some for the kids.”

“Of course not.” Freddie chuckled, kissing her temple as she sat next to him. “How’s your foot?”

“Aching like a bastard.” She muttered, and he arched an eyebrow playfully - he didn’t mind bad language, but not around his little ones. “I might have to steal your crutches.”

“And strand me here?” Freddie snorted. “Sure, I’ll find two long sticks on Southbank and stumble home that way. Jim would kick your ass.”

She arched an eyebrow back at him, equally playful, and they both burst out laughing, forgetting to be quiet. It wasn’t until Jim sat himself in the seat in front of him that Freddie looked up, his cheeks immediately scorching scarlet. “Hello, darling.” He smiled shyly.

“What do we have here?” Jim asked playfully, resting his chin on his palm, and his elbow on the back of the chair. “Lottie, I wasn’t expecting to see you at this time of night.”

She glanced at Freddie and smiled. “I had a little accident at ballet.” She admitted. “So Freddie came to Bloomsbury to get me, because he didn’t want me to travel on my own at night, even though I insisted I’d be fine.”

Freddie had always had a fear of the dark, of what lurked in it, and he’d projected that onto all of his loved ones; no matter the time of night, he’d never let them walk alone. Jim was still proud to love someone with such a caring heart. “So I’d expect he would. This is Freddie.” He chuckled. “And so you all thought you’d come and gatecrash my practice?”

“We just wanted to hear you, darling.” Freddie implored.

“He hasn’t shut up about it since he worked out that you were coming here in the evenings.” Lottie muttered, laughing when Freddie elbowed her playfully. Jim loved to watch them together; sometimes they seemed more like best friends than family.

“It’s pretty!” Holly announced, reaching for her father. Jim picked her up and kissed her forehead, chuckling to himself.

“Thank you, angel.” He said sweetly, so happy to be surrounded by all his loved ones. He still considered it a luxury and a privilege to have so many people to call his own, a lover and two, three children, a family so beautiful and so talented, and so supportive of everything he did. “So what was this accident, then?” He asked.

“She thought she’d take after me and do over her foot.” Freddie chuckled. He was nursing a partial tear to one of his Achilles tendons, having taken on one too many shows in his second season with the Royal, and he’d already had surgery to repair it, in the hope that it would never completely rupture.

“He’s being dramatic. I’ve just sprained my ankle.” She told him. “I’ll go to the doctor if it gets bad.”

“Why don’t I have a look over it for you when we get home?” He offered. 

“Because that’ll be like three o’clock in the morning.” She grinned. 

“Honestly, darling.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Lucky for you, you all decided not to make noise until the end of our rehearsal, which means we can go home. It’s probably a good job.” He looked over at Xavier, who was half asleep in his lap. “I doubt they’ll be easy on the tube, and I’ve got the car.”

Freddie looked a little relieved; crutches meant that he couldn’t carry the children and he had to rely on their good behaviour while they travelled, which was, at best, terrifying. “Sounds wonderful.”

* * *

Jim wound his arms around Freddie’s waist as he turned on the tap, smiling tiredly. “Hello, love.” He murmured.

“Hello.” Jim kissed the back of his neck. “I don’t feel like I’ve seen you much recently without the kids around. How are you doing?”

“Ebbs and flows.” He replied judiciously, knowing that Jim would want details no matter how artfully he avoided questions. He’d been back on nights, and Freddie wouldn’t want to worry him over nothing serious.

“Freddie.” He murmured, pressing another kiss to the back of his shoulder. 

“I’m alright.” He promised. “Tired.”

“You can go to bed, sweetness. You don’t have to do the washing up now.” Jim swept a comforting hand down his side.

“I’m trying to stay up.” He yawned. “Lottie, she might not be asleep yet.”

“If not now, she will be before long.” Jim tightened his arms around his waist, helping to hold him up when he could tell he was getting tired of standing on one leg, muscles going shaky. “Don’t worry.”

“Sometimes she needs to come and talk to someone at night.” He murmured. “I just want to know that she’s definitely alright. She’s got a lot of shit on her mind at the moment, it’s good for her to talk through it with someone who gets her.”

“Has she been awake a lot?” Jim asked.

“Quite a lot.” Freddie admitted. “I’ve been awake for her, and some of the things she says - it brings up things that make it hard to sleep. Add onto that the fact that I’ve been awake with my ankle, or because I’ve started being sick in the night again, and I- I haven’t been sleeping too well.” He bit his lip and looked away nervously. “I don’t like sleeping when you’re not around.”

“Oh, darling.” Jim’s voice softened and he reached over to turn off the tap. “Have you been using your pain patches? And your antiemetics?”

“I thought I didn’t need them anymore.” He admitted, sounding a little disappointed.

“But you can still use them to help you through a flare up. It’s not weakness, baby, it’s looking after yourself.” He carefully picked him up. “We’ll do your meds and we’ll lie down together. Lottie can always wake you if she needs you, and you’ll do better for her if you’re feeling brighter and better.”

Freddie wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck and rested his head against his shoulder as he let himself be carried upstairs. “I just want to help her, because I know what it’s like to be happy in the day and then to feel really sad and alone at night.”

Jim laid him on the bed and smiled when the tension bled from his muscles. “You look after everyone else when you look after yourself. You know we’re always happier when you’re feeling yourself again.”

“It just takes so much time.” He admitted. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Nothing is better than looking after yourself.” He crushed Freddie’s tablets for him and kissed his forehead as he handed him them, along with a fresh syringe. “If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for me. You know I love it when you’ve got a smile on your face.”

Freddie started to smile then, a little reluctant. “I love you.” He murmured, reaching up to kiss him properly. “I’m really happy we adopted Lottie, you know? I’m glad you got her out of there.”

“I’m glad you gave me the kick up the ass to get the ball rolling. I’ve been saying I want more kids for an age, now.” He chuckled. “You know, ever since you met my parents, I’ve been desperately wanting a bigger family.”

“That was months ago.” Freddie chuckled, humour behind his eyes and in his smile. “You should’ve just gone for it.”

“I was hardly just going to do it without your say-so.” Jim chuckled. “I’m so glad you got on with them. They’re coming again tomorrow.”

“Okay, darling.” Freddie smiled, delighting at the prospect of the weekend, of having his home filled with so many new people again. “It’s my pleasure.”


	2. Brushing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new step in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest this is like a redemption fic for Peccant I just love seeing them happy I won't lie

She didn’t know why she was so nervous, butterflies in her tummy, trying to look the best that she could; she brushed her hair out once, twice, a third time, smoothing it until it crackled, glossy in the weak February sun. She hadn’t seen the man - she couldn’t remember his name, but she could remember his face, warm and kind and loving - for several months, not since the breaking of the new year, and something in her heart twisted painfully when she reminded herself of calling him Daddy in a haze of pain and morphine.

And God, she wished he was.

He’d already changed her life for the better - she was living in Kensington now, instead of Harringay, far away from her parents; she lived in a beautiful, big house, with ten other children and foster parents to look after her. She liked it - she was safe, after all, and she hadn’t been safe since her mother had taken a new partner - but it wasn’t her forever home, merely a halfway house until she hopefully got adopted.

She knew her chances were slim - she was eleven, she wasn’t fair-haired and fair-skinned and gorgeous, her hair was smooth and dark but her skin was bronze, not like the other girls who’d been adopted from her house. 

“How are you feeling, Lottie?” Eliza swept into the room and smiled. “Darling, your hair looks lovely!”

Lottie smiled shyly in the mirror and placed her hairbrush on the side. “I’m nervous.” She admitted.

“Oh, sweetheart!” Her mother - or her foster mother, or her carer, she was never sure what to call her in her own mind - swept in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, smelling slightly of bergamot and her morning coffee. “You’ll be just fine. The doctor just wanted to come and say hello for a little while.”

Lottie grabbed her crutches and turned around to face her. “Why, though?” She asked shyly.

“I suppose he might be looking for a wonderful little girl to adopt.” She winked, her skirts sweeping the floor as she came closer to brush a little hair from her front. “He wants to know you’re okay. He’s very invested in your safety.”

“He did seem lovely.” Lottie agreed shyly. “Is he- does he really want someone to adopt?”

“I don’t know, darling. I was just joking.” She pressed a kiss to Lottie’s forehead. “But he was the one that personally called social services and gave you to me. He was the one that was so invested in you that he worked a long shift to keep you safe.”

“Have you met him?” Lottie asked, sitting heavily on her bed and twisting a little strand of her hair back behind her ear. “You talk like you’ve met him.”

“I saw him for a little while when I first came to pick you up.” She sat beside her little girl and squeezed her shoulder. “He’d been on the ward for nearly thirty-one hours that night, he had about three hours’ sleep, he was so worried about you. His boyfriend was in the ward at the same time as you.”

“Boyfriend?” She echoed, almost a little confused.

“Yes, darling, he has a boyfriend. That doesn’t bother you, does it? You don’t have to go for coffee with him if it does.” She said comfortingly. “Remember, I’ll be nearby for the whole time.”

“No, no, I don’t mind.” She said quickly. “I just haven’t met anyone like that before.”

“Me neither.” She chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll have fun, darling, but I’ll be there to keep you safe just in case.”

* * *

She hadn’t laughed so hard that her tummy hurt in a long while, but Jim made her feel safe and warm and a little more relaxed, in a way that she hadn’t felt since she was tiny. He’d bought her a big hot chocolate, with cream on top, though she’d insisted that she didn’t need anything, and she’d started giggling when he’d told her that  _ it’s not what you need, sweetheart, it’s what you want! _

He crossed one leg over the other and smiled. “So, what school do you go to now?” He asked, glancing over at Eliza and sending her a reassuring smile.

“I go to two.” She smiled shyly. “Holland Park, and- and the Central School of Ballet.” She blushed. “But I only go there four times a week, on a Tuesday and Wednesday and at the weekends.”

“You’re a dancer?” He asked, happy that she had a hobby that was so close to home for him.

“I’m on a scholarship for their prep classes.” She said, a hint of pride behind her eyes. 

“You must be good, then.” He commented. “You haven’t had too many problems with it?”

She shook her head. “I can still dance. I have a couple of problems with my fingers and my toes, just because of the nerve damage, but I’m okay. It’s just a pain in the ass to commute so often.”

“Do you commute on your own?” He asked.

She nodded. “But it’s not a big deal.” She shrugged. “I’ve been commuting since I was nine.”

“You must be committed to it.” He arched an eyebrow, as if to ask.

“I’d like to be a dancer.” She smiled shyly. “With one of the big companies, I think, at the Royal Opera House or the London Coliseum or Sadler’s Wells.”

“Have you ever watched a ballet?” He questioned.

“I see them at the Opera House sometimes, I met one of the ladies that teaches and she sneaks me in when there’s spare seats.” Her smile widened at the memories.

“My partner dances for the Royal.” He smiled. “You could meet him if you like.”

“The Royal?” Her eyes widened in wonder. “Did he- did he go to the school?”

“White Lodge?” Jim echoed. “Yes, he did, but it was quite a long time ago now. Before you were born.”

“Do you think he could help me?” She asked, her face lit up with excitement, and she leaned forward. “I want to go to White Lodge, too. It’s- it’s been my goal forever, my teacher says I could go.”

“I’m sure he could. I think he’d probably like to.” He chuckled. “You and Eliza could come back home with me for a while, if you’d like to meet him.”

She avoided his offer and bit her lip. “Why did you want to see me today?”

Jim was surprised by how quickly she changed the topic, but he allowed it all the same. “I wanted to know that you were doing okay.” He said judiciously, saying as much as he felt safe to say.

“Is it true you want to adopt me?” She blurted out, too excited to keep it quiet anymore; she’d felt the desire to ask him bubble over inside her the more she’d heard him say.

“I-” Jim laughed a little, encouraged by the happy look on her face. “I’m interested in fostering you for a little while.”

“I think I’d like that.” She put on her best smile and leaned on her palm. “Because you were nice when you looked after me, and your boyfriend sounds nice, I could fit in awfully well-”

“Lottie.” Eliza crouched beside her and rested a hand on her back. “Slow down, sweetheart, let’s not be rude.”

“No, it’s okay.” Jim smiled. “I’m glad she’s excited by it.”

* * *

“Oh, visitors!” Freddie stood up quickly and kicked his IV pole behind him; he hadn’t been expecting anybody around, and was dressed lazily, already a few hours into his feed. “God, sorry, I look such a mess.”

“It’s alright, baby.” Jim kissed his cheek. “I didn’t think we’d come back.”

“It’s lovely to meet you both.” Freddie sat on the table and smiled at the women that were suddenly in his kitchen. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your names.”

“I’m Lottie.” She said shyly, looking up at him in awe; she’d seen him up on stage before, sat in the heavens of the Opera House, white satin pointe shoes as he danced the White Swan - she couldn’t believe she was stood here, in front of him, in his own kitchen.

“Lottie!” The name rung a bell and he leaned down to hug her. “Oh, darling, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” She whispered.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said warmly. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” He smiled up at Eliza.

“I’m Lottie’s foster mum, Eliza.” She explained. “I thought I’d just come to keep an eye on everything.”

“Of course.” He agreed, shaking her hand. “I’m glad you’re taking good care of her.”

“Are you okay?” Eliza asked bluntly, looking at the way his hands trembled. 

“Reasonably.” He said shyly, and he threw Jim a grateful smile when he opened a bottle of isotonic and handed it to him. “I have a couple of health problems, my hands are usually the first thing to go.”

“Jim said you’re a dancer.” Lottie asked, trying to seem cool, as though she hadn’t seen him before. 

“Somehow.” He joked, crossing his legs and sipping his drink. “Ballet. For the Royal Ballet.”

“I’d like to be a ballerina.” She told him, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’ve been dancing since I was four.”

“That’s earlier than I started.” Freddie chuckled. “I started when I was seven. You’re probably better than I am.”

She was so flattered by the compliment. “I want to go to White Lodge.” She told him proudly. “Just like you.”

“Just like me?” Freddie looked over at Jim and smiled. “I knew my ears were burning.”

“Maybe we talked about you a little bit.” Jim sat beside him and chuckled. “We’ve talked about an awful lot.”

“The plans?” He asked cryptically.

“The plans.” Jim agreed. “Lottie thinks she might like it here.”

“You think?” Freddie turned to her excitedly. “You might want to live here?”

“I think so. I think- I think I like you both.” She smiled down at her shoes. “I might like it here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed it? Excited? Want to see more of this world? Leave all the comments below or hit me up on tumblr @immistermercury!
> 
> Dedicated to nisargasinha - I've loved seeing your enthusiasm for this verse and every time you've reread it!


End file.
